Page 46 of Asmodel
Izzy’s warm breath coated his neck as she chuckled.
“You know, my name is Izzy, not Bella.”
He smiled. “Ah yes, but when we are alone, to me you are my Bella. My beauty.”
Izzy giggled and scooted closer to him. Mere fractions of distance separated her body from his. If she kept that up, nothing would keep his lower half from her.
It took every ounce of strength he had to avoid touching her as it was. “Are you ready?” His whisper came out as a growl. He cleared his throat.
She nodded, and Asmodel continued. “Now, picture in your mind a favorite place where you are most comfortable. Some place where you have no fear.” He waited a moment before asking, “Are you visualizing a place like that?”
In his arms, Izzy’s body softened, her sensual curves molding to his touch.
She let out a soft, melodic hum before responding. “Yes, I have it in mind.”
Asmodel brushed a trail of her fine hair from her eyes. “Good. Now, stay calm as I join you.”
With a quick nudge of his mind, he created a pathway between his mind and hers, opening a doorway for him to put them into a dream sequence that would feel real to them both. Satisfied everything was as it should be with her, he opened his eyes in the dream plane and took in the place Izzy had created. He might be the foundations of the dream that held it together, but she was the designer of this sanctum, complete with varied attributes.
His eyes widened at the sight of the outer heavy doors, grand and imposing. In the bright sunshine, their richly paneled dark wood boasted intricate carvings. Brass handles, polished to a shine that caught the light and reflected the grandeur of the building’s surrounding architecture. The ornate doorway was framed by Byzantine stonework, adding a touch of majesty to the imposing entrance.
Asmodel had never seen a place like this. He couldn’t wait to discover what was inside. He pushed through the heavy doors, and the sudden quiet swallowed the outside city clamor he hadn’t paid attention to until it was gone. Looking up, he could see the vaulted ceilings of a large main hall stretched above. The air was tinged with the mild, musty scent of aged paper and polished wood, and light filtered through several tall windows that cast long, solemn shadows across rows of oak tables. Various readers hunched in silent reverence over books, tablets, and computers.
As he walked farther inside, his footsteps echoed softly on the marble floor, like a faint whisper to announce his presence. To his right, the gentle rustling of pages turning and the occasional muted cough punctuated the stillness, as patrons immersed themselves deeper into their literary worlds.
“Welcome to my world, Asmodel.” Izzy greeted him with a huge grin, her hands clasped in front of her. “Isn’t this great?” She whirled around with her arms flung wide and laughed. “I can’t believe how real this looks!” Abruptly stopping, she rushed over to him and gripped his forearms. Her head tilted with a mischievous grin. “You even got the details of Mr. Herbert right—sleeping in the corner over there.” She nodded at an elderly man nodding off in a leather chair that could have held two of his fragile figures.
He couldn’t help but stare at the mesmerizing sight of a giddy Izzy. Instead of the worn-out clothing she’d been wearing since he’d met her, she now wore some kind of long fuzzy sweater that outlined her full breasts, making them appear soft and inviting. Her shapely legs, showcased by tight-fitting pants, highlighted her mouthwatering round rump and taut muscles, ending snugly at her ankles. On her dainty feet were strappy, open-toe sandals that had her pink colored toenails peeking out, inviting him to play.
Asmodel swallowed a dry throat and took in a deep breath. Damn woman was the most tempting female he’d ever laid eyes on.
“Asmodel?” Izzy put her hand on his arm. “Are you okay?” She gestured to the spacious area around them. “Don’t you like it here?” Her lower lip quivered.
It was hard to understand the question. It took everything he had to keep his hands to himself and not grab the fluffy sweater at her waist and lift her up so he could kiss the living shit out of her.
When her grip tightened, he did his best to focus on her gorgeous amber eyes and not lower. “Um.” He cleared his throat. “What? Is what okay?”
“You, being here in this place?” Izzy cocked her head to the building they were in. “Where I used to work—The New York Public Library. Are you okay with this place?”
“Oh.” He glanced around. “Is that where we are?” Not that he noticed anything. The only thing he wanted to look at was her. “Is there anywhere we can go that’s private?”
Izzy’s eyes twinkled, and her grin appeared again. “Oh, don’t worry. I know just the place.” She grabbed his hand and led him away. “Evelyn, watch the store!” Her voice rose as she addressed a middle-aged woman behind an imposing wooden counter.
The woman laughed and shooed her with a negligent wave. “Sure, I’ll mind the shop for ya. Go on now and have a bit o’ fun!” The woman’s laugh was infectious.
Asmodel’s eyebrows rose at the thick Irish accent.
Izzy giggled and stepped up her pace until she reached a hallway with several doors on either side. When she came to the first one, she opened the solid cherry-oak door and rushed them through. The room was modest, lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes. On one side of the room, a plush, soft, peach couch invited a moment of repose, its cushions slightly indented, suggesting Izzy used it often. A small, circular table stood nearby, bearing a solitary lamp that cast a warm, golden glow across its surface. The room had a quiet hum, insulating it from the outer world. An antique clock perched atop a bookcase, its rhythmic ticking the only sound breaking the silence.
The centerpiece of the office was the desk—a large, sturdy piece of craftsmanship made from dark, rich mahogany. Its surface was broad and polished to a soft sheen that reflected the muted light from the lamp in the ceiling above. The edges of the desk had subtle carvings—nothing ornate, but just enough to add a sense of distinction and old-world charm. On the desktop rested a slim laptop next to a vintage brass desk lamp on the corner. A few stacks of books and papers haphazardly covered the other corner.
“Is this private enough?” Izzy closed the door behind her. The sound of her twisting the lock in place made him grin.
Any restraint he held in check vanished. He captured the alluring woman in his arms where she belonged.
“This is perfect,” he whispered before devouring her mouth with his.
When Asmodel’s lips touched hers, all the playfulness inside Izzy evaporated. With a single touch, he took control of the kiss and owned it. As his lips slanted over hers, his wicked tongue pushed inside and created havoc. With a seamless motion, he swung her up into his arms, his mouth never missing a beat. He turned, positioning her above him, and then laid back on the couch, holding her close. Thank goodness the piece of furniture she’d purchased years ago at a charity auction was strong enough to be used for something as decadent as what they were doing.